Stanford Better Beware
by GirlOfLetters
Summary: Dean goes to Stanford with Sam. Adventures and shenanigans ensue. A tale of love, life, family, brotherhood, monsters and, occasionally, even academia.
1. The Calm After the Storm

**Author's Note: Don't own the boys but I believe it's been universally agreed now that disclaimers are pointless. All mistakes are my own as I'm too eager to post for a beta but I do try to go back and fix them. :)**

 **Chapter One**

 _ **The Calm After The Storm**_

It had been a terrible fight, worse than almost any Dean could remember. He hadn't known exactly what approach to take, especially since he'd been as shocked as his father when Sam had announced he had secretly applied for colleges and been accepted to Stanford in their early admission round. It had been a miserably cold day in December, one week before Christmas and they had just finished a hunt when Sam had spilled the beans. Predictably, John Winchester had exploded. After getting over his initial loss of speech, Dean had swung between the instinct to defend his brother and the urge to scream at him for not only wanting to leave but dropping this on him without a warning. He'd honestly believed they were too close for such big secrets. In the end, he'd tried playing the situation down, telling his father that Sam was just going through a rebellious phase and come September he would realise he couldn't really go. As it had turned out, it would have made absolutely no difference what tactics he used - neither one of the other two Winchesters even pretended to be listening to him. It was like he wasn't even there sometimes. This magical disappearing act had become a frequent occurrence lately whenever his father and brother decided to face off. When he and Sammy had been younger at least he could count on the kid coming to him after a fight to complain about the enormous unfairness of life, hunting and John Winchester. Now there was only sulking from Sam and barked orders from John, as if every argument they had with each other was automatically an argument with Dean, even though they never actually let him get a word in edgewise. He'd feared for at least a year that his family was falling apart but he'd managed to somehow delude himself that they were just going through a rough patch. After all, all they had was each other, where would any of them go?

An ivy league school, apparently.

Perhaps he should have known. Perhaps he was a bad brother for not seeing it coming. Sam had always been a smart. Not just the smart one of the family but _actually_ smart. College smart. Real world smart.

Dean tried and failed to feel supportive. Rationally, he could see that asking his brother to sleep in motel rooms and chop heads off with machetes for the rest of his life when he had both the desire and the ability to get a real home and a real job was selfish. The problem was that such thoughts got constantly pushed aside by more insistent ones.

 _He didn't even tell me, when did he start hiding things from me? Why? What did I do?_

 _He's abandoning us. He's abandoning me alone with Dad, with no buffer, no backup, no buddy… I don't know if I can deal with John Winchester alone - especially a John Winchester who's both pissed at his son and misses him and doesn't have anyone else around to take it out on._

 _Poor Dad… He always tried harder with Sam, like he was hoping he could have at least one of us as a son and not a trooper. It backfired on him._

And finally, a grudging thought which Dean shoved away violently every time it crawled out of that long-forgotten, barricaded corner of his mind.

 _Why does he get to do this and not me?_

Ridiculous. He could never, would never, dump Dad. He'd never wanted to go to college. He'd dropped out of high school in his final year and only taken his GEDs because Sam had made Dad order him to. This was petty and childish, like wanting another kid's toy even though you knew you didn't need it. He didn't want to go to college. He just didn't want to be left behind.

That moment almost came prematurely on Christmas Day. The tension between the oldest and youngest Winchester had been building for a week and was so palpable that it had given Dean a constant migraine and it finally erupting into what this time truly was the worst fight they'd ever had.

"I have raised a spoiled, selfish brat!" John bellowed. "You don't care that people are dying out there and you sure as hell don't care about me or your brother. You should be grateful…"

"For what?" Sam shouted back. "What should I be grateful for? You leaving us for days on end with barely any food? Forcing us into danger? Preventing us from having any real friendships? Or maybe for Dean always defending you? Embarrassing me in school by acting like a jerk and skipping class all the time? Dumping me in Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie while he chased after girls? I'm not like you! Either one of you! I want a life!"

Dean gaped, feeling a little like he'd been punched in the stomach but he didn't have time to recover because Sam had started stuffing clothes in his duffel and their father's eyes were flashing dangerously and he was starting a sentence Dean was sure he was going to regret...

"Samuel Winchester, if you walk out that door…"

"Dad, no!"

It hadn't even been a conscious movement but Dean had somehow placed himself physically between his two family members, as if hoping to absorb some invisible blow. He gave his father a pleading look.

 _Dad, please, we're going to lose him. You'll say the words but I'll lose him, too._

John Winchester glared into his son's face for what seemed like a long time before pushing him away and leaving the room. But he didn't finish the sentence. Dean's shoulders sagged. He took a deep breath before turning around to look at Sam who had frozen, duffel in hand. Dean grabbed the bag.

"Gimme that. It's months before the term starts, where are you going to stay in the meantime? Plucky's?"

Sam rolled his eyes but he sat on his bed with a huff and opened his laptop.

Oddly, there were no more fights after that and while Dean was grateful, he also found the quiet unnerving. Sam spent his time reading and typing on his laptop and answering everything with a mildly irritable 'Dean, I'm busy!'. His father became impossible to read and occasionally disappeared on his own with no word about where he was going.

"Wait, are you going on a hunt?" Dean asked hurrying after him into the parking lot the first time it happened. "Dad, you'll need backup!"

"I don't need backup for this."

"Dad, I know you're mad but…"

His father whipped around. "Dean! Get your ass back inside that motel, I told you I don't need you with me! I'm running late."

Dean stopped in his tracks.

 _Why are you mad at me?_

The question was on the tip of his tongue and he almost asked it but instead he muttered a 'yes, sir' and just stood there as the Impala drove away, feeling helpless and worried and _insulted_.

 _Of course you need me, you stubborn old douchebag! I can swing with the best of them, I fought back three vampires off that girl last month before you and Sammy could even get there! You fucking need me!_

But he didn't. John Winchester had hunted on his own long before his sons had been old enough to join him. Who knew, maybe they were a liability. Maybe he thought that now when he was going to have one less to worry about, he may as well drop the other, too. Maybe Dean had only ever been there as Sammy's babysitter. Either way, it worried him that he didn't know what his Dad was doing.

One particular day in early January John seemed incredibly on edge. He paced the room, made a phone call in the motel parking lot that Dean wasn't able to eavesdrop on and finally took the car and drove off. To Dean's great relief, he came back a couple of hours later. He stopped disappearing after that and Dean hoped whatever it was had gotten resolved, especially since his father was now looking much calmer. Only occasionally he would pick up on a subtle undercurrent of anxiety but however much he tried for the next few months, he couldn't figure out what it was caused by. It was eventually pushed from his mind by Sam's impending departure. It drove him crazy that they were just going through the motions while their last months together were slipping away. Sam had muttered several times that they would still see each other and not to make a big deal out of it but Dean knew that once his brother was at Stanford they would be planets away and not really part of each other's lives anymore. It was nearly incomprehensible after eighteen years of practically living in each other's asses. He really wanted to do something with this time and make sure they parted on good terms instead of this lukewarm friendliness Sam treated him with these days but he never quite figured out how.

And then one morning in April, after he'd given up on talking to his family and spent the night with a pretty ginger barmaid, he'd come back to the motel and been greeted by the most astonishing sight in the world. Sam Winchester, eyes moist and grinning like an idiot, was hugging their father - and almost lifting him off the ground, the damn Sasquatch - like he was ten and John had just given him a puppy. Dean was stunned enough that he actually looked around for a puppy before clearing his throat awkwardly, afraid that he would somehow break whatever weird magic this was.

"Oh, Dean! Um…" Sam let go and stepped back, wiping at his eyes and then chuckling sheepishly.

John, whose back had been to Dean turned around to look at him, too, and though his expression was less goofy than Sam's he looked suspiciously like he was going to break into a grin, too.

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"Dad is awesome. Gimme your ID, I'm gonna get us some beer." And without further explanation, he pulled Dean's ID out of his pocket, patted him on the shoulder and practically skipped out of the room.

Dean turned his raised eyebrows on his father who patted a chair.

"Sit down, son. It's time we had a little conversation about your future."


	2. And Then Another Storm

**Chapter 2**

 **And Then Another Storm**

"Well, this doesn't sound ominous at all," Dean muttered, taking a seat opposite his father. "My future?"

John cleared his throat, the hint of a smile that had pushed at his lips now gone and replaced by a hard line. "You're going to Stanford."

It was said in the same voice he usually used for delegating tasks on a hunt and Dean almost said 'yes, sir' before he caught himself.

"Excuse me?" he said instead.

"You will accompany your brother to Palo Alto."

"With how weird you guys are acting, I'm assuming you don't mean just to drive Sammy there in September. You want me to stay in town and watch out for him? Dad, that makes no sense. He's going to college, not to war and I'm a hunter, not a nanny. He'll be fine." Of course, saying that immediately made Dean worry he wouldn't be but he continued anyway. "And I can't believe Sam's happy about this. I thought he wanted to be all grown up, no babysitters. What am I gonna do there anyway? Credit card scams don't work half as well when you're staying in the same damn place."

His father was looking impatient. "You're not getting this. If one of my sons is going to college, so is the other one. Of course I _also_ damn well want you to watch out for your brother. You'll be watching him from inside the campus." He pushed a large envelope towards Dean. It was already opened.

Dean frowned, took out the contents and got stuck reading the first two sentences over and over. He looked up at his father. "What the hell is this?"

"Come on, Dean, I didn't raise an idiot. It's your Stanford acceptance letter."

"Yeah, well, that's really funny because I sure as hell don't remember applying."

"Well, you got accepted anyway."

"Dad, seriously, how did you pull this crap?"

"Faked a few things. Not everything. I guess they liked your essay."

"Wait, are you kidding me? This letter's freakin' real? You _applied_ for me?"

"Faking an offer would have been too difficult."

"You impersonated me, applied to a college and you-you-you opened my mail?"

His father snorted, clearly finding it funny that out of all possible things this was what Dean had decided to focus on but Dean himself was not amused. There was not much privacy when you spent most of your time in a car together with two other people or sharing a room with them but he felt that what little there was had been violated.

"How did they even know where to write?" he asked.

"I gave them Bobby's address. He forwarded it."

" _Bobby_ knows?!"

"Well, he doesn't know you're in yet. Not unless he went through the trouble of opening the envelope and then resealing it very carefully."

"But you opened it and didn't even bother pretending you hadn't. If I ever wanted to apply to college I'd want to read my own goddamn reply, Dad!"

"Don't be a brat. One would think you'd be grateful."

"Grateful? This is a joke!"

John's expression which had been growing darker throughout the conversation was now downright thunderous. "Do I look like I'm joking, boy?"

Dean honestly didn't know what to do with this bizarre parallel dimension he'd suddenly been dropped into. He felt oddly betrayed and humiliated and, completely illogically guilty for a deception he hadn't even participated in.

"I'm not going," he said finally.

"What do you mean you're not going?"

"This is insane! What about hunting? What about saving people? And you don't think once I get there they'll realise I'm not exactly college material?"

"Then I suggest you hit the library a lot."

"You've finally cracked."

John's fist slammed on the table. "You talk to me like that again and you'll be missing your first semester for medical reasons, am I clear, Dean? When I do something for you I expect gratitude and when I tell you to do something you goddamn do it!"

And there went John Winchester storming out the door and Dean could only look after him slack-jawed and wonder how he was at fault in this situation.

"You reason with him!" John growled to Sam in passing and it was only then that Dean realised his little brother had been standing at the entrance for a while with a pack of beer.

"Dad, wait, come on…" A heavy sigh and Sam turned to Dean with a half-smile. "Well, that went well." He sounded mildly concerned but also mildly amused. Dean stared at him as he put the beer down on the table and took the seat their father had just vacated. "I was kinda hoping he'd deliver it a bit better but then again – it's Dad."

"You've both gone mad," Dean managed and then narrowed his eyes. "Unless you're not you."

Sam let out an incredulous laugh. "Dean, quit it. What do you think we are, shapeshifters? If a shifter was going to impersonate Dad I doubt what he'd do with his time would be trying to get you into college."

"Then I must be really fucking drunk and Dad will kill me tomorrow morning for getting so plastered."

"Right. Sure. Can we assume that this is reality for five minutes?"

"I'm not sure. Can we?"

"Dean, look, I get it. It was a shocker to me as well, believe me. But Dad has finally done something right so, for the love of God, don't discourage him! I know why you're reacting like someone's telling you to jump off a cliff. You have no idea how to deal with him doing something like this and he doesn't know how to act in this situation either and he reverts back to being a drill sergeant. But I think for once he's just trying to put us first."

Dean looked down at the acceptance letter again. "Okay, one, I don't believe this is real. Two, I didn't ask for it."

"Well, maybe you didn't have to. I don't think you've ever allowed yourself to even consider the possibility. If you think about it…"

"I can't think about it, Sam! I'm not leaving Dad and going off to chase tail in a fancy school for however long it takes them to throw me out. Because, you know, chasing tail is the only thing I'm qualified to do in a place like that."

"Bullshit. Just because you pretend you don't have a brain doesn't mean it's not there. I want you to come."

Dean dropped his head back and let it bang on the backrest of his chair.

"Why?"

"For a number of reasons."

"Name three."

"Fine. Because you and Dad have dragged me into the stuff that you enjoy for the entirety of my life and now I want to do the same to you. Because I think this could be good for you and you deserve it. And because… I'd feel weird without you around, man."

"Sammy, you're such a girl."

"It's Sam and you're a jerk." He pulled something out of his pocket and threw it across the table at Dean. It turned out to be a Stanford brochure. "Just look at it. At least entertain the idea."

Dean huffed but unravelled the brochure. It was what he'd expected – kids laughing at the camera for no reason and looking with inspired expressions at some douchebag in front of a white board.

"Hell, no. And how do you two propose we even pay for this worst-idea-ever? What, fake me is so awesome he got a full ride, too?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "No. No offence but you'd lose it pretty quickly even if Dad had tried to get you that. Apparently, Mom and Dad started funds for us to go to college before Mom died. Obviously, Dad's spent a good portion of the money over the years but he said he'd kept it as emergency cash when things got really dire so there's enough left of the two funds combined to last you a while if you don't overspend."

"I'm not spending your money!"

"Dean's, it's not my money, it's the family money and I don't need it."

"Fine, then the rest of us might need it for more important things than me kicking my heels in California."

"You have the wrong idea if you think you'll be kicking your heels. Look… Mom would have wanted this."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"How?"

"Because any mother would!"

"Sam, I don't _want_ to."

"You don't know what you want! He's been telling you you're not allowed to want anything like this your whole life!"

"Oh, so he's been dictating my life until now. And now he's dictating my life with the help of my little brother."

"No! Why are you being so…"

Dean could clearly see that Sam was trying hard to hold on to his composure. His brother usually flared up like a firework during a confrontation – not unlike their Dad - and he wondered when he was going to see the second walk-out of the day. To the youngest Winchester's credit, he wasn't giving up yet.

"Look," Sam said in his best let's-be-reasonable tone, "if you really don't want to go nobody can make you but if there is even a tiny part of you that wants it then you may as well give it a shot because it's also what I want and what Dad wants so… Why don't we reply to say you accept and then you can still think about it. If in September you still haven't changed your mind you won't show up and that will be that."

There was a long pause.

"Fine, whatever," Dean said. He was suddenly feeling too tired and confused to argue, especially faced with his baby brother's open, hopeful expression. It was so welcome after months of 'leave me alone, Dean' that he didn't have the heart to ruin it. "Anything to get you off my ass."

Sam beamed and opened them each a can of beer. Dean wished fervently it was something stronger.

 **Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay posting this but work is crazy. Let me know if you're reading and what you think, just keep in mind that this story doesn't exactly take itself very seriously. That said, I can't wait to be done with setup and get into the really fun stuff but Dean just plain refused to go down without a fight. :D


	3. An Abundance of Awkward Silences

**Author's Note:** Hey, y'all, thanks for reading! Drop me a note with any thoughts, discussions or suggestions. This chapter has spoilers for Seaon 9's "Bad Boys".

 **Chapter 3**

 _ **An Abundance of Awkward Silences**_

A reply had been written and sent. Not by Dean – by Sam, although Dean had given him a grudging, grumbling permission. Apart from that, for a good while after the arrival of the offer nobody mentioned it again. A few days later they were dealing with a rampaging werewolf in Colorado. Then with a poltergeist two states over. Today it had been a ghost. Dean tried very hard to imagine everything was back to normal and nobody was going anywhere. Their father's mood swung from fairly good-humoured to awfully snappy but Sam seemed somehow less bitchy than usual. It was subtle – he still argued with orders and complained about this or that but there was little anger behind it. Despite his misgivings about the whole Stanford thing, Sam's sudden good mood made him breathe a little easier than he had in a while.

"You know, I think you're being stupid but I'm kinda proud of you for arguing with him," Sam had said on one of the rare occasions they'd been alone in the car doing a grocery run. "And it's kind of funny, too – we've switched places. You and Dad are arguing over you going to college and I'm stuck in the middle trying to keep the peace."

"And how does that feel?" Dean had asked.

Sam had laughed. "Honestly? Weird."

His father and brother not being at war was a rare and unexpected treat though so Dean didn't dare complain.

Things between him and John were a little weird, though. Dean couldn't figure out on what terms they were and it made him really nervous. The way the hunt had gone today hadn't helped with that. Sam and Dean had been sent to the cemetery on their own to look for the remains while their father did… honestly, Dean had no idea what and he'd been ordered not to ask. He'd unexpectedly re-joined them just as the vindictive ghost had made an appearance and was keeping Sam busy. It shouldn't have been an issue because they were seconds away from torching the thing but Dean had fucked up. He'd dropped his lighter into the grave while trying to light the bones and he'd stupidly jumped in to retrieve it. He'd realised a second later that, of course, his father also had a lighter and could have easily finished the job except he now had to wait for his idiot of a son to scramble back out of the hole and a safe distance away, having smeared gasoline all over his clothes. In that time the ghost had managed to throw both of the other two Winchesters some distance away from the grave, redirected its attention to him and nearly strangled him before finally lighting up in the flame of John's lighter. The car ride after that had been silent with Sam casting worried glances at the rest of his family. Both he and Dean had waited for the other shoe to drop but hours later it still hadn't. Even when they had gotten back to the motel, instead of the spectacular rant he'd been expecting, all Dean had gotten was a nudge towards the bathroom.

"I can wait, Dad. You and Sam can…"

"You stink of gasoline. Go on."

"Dad, I know I messed up…"

"Go take a shower, Dean."

There was no hostility behind the words but there was a kind of coldness and formality Dean hadn't heard in years. Hell, last he remembered it showing up was after he'd been caught shoplifting and spent two months in Sonny's home for boys. His dad had adopted a similar attitude when he'd finally come to pick him up. He did not at all appreciate its return.

The reminder of Sonny's jolted something inside him. Sam didn't really know what had happened in those two months of his life and Dean had had neither the courage nor the desire to ever bring the topic up with his father. As a result he'd not exactly buried the memory but he'd wrapped it carefully and put it away like some keepsake you stash at the back of your sock drawer where no one will look for it. It was bittersweet. He'd been crushed at first when he'd realised his father was deliberately abandoning him there. He rarely questioned punishments but this had seemed a little excessive for losing the food money and shoplifting a stupid PB&J jar. He'd been almost sure his family would come back for him eventually but while he'd been waiting for them Sonny had managed to get through to him and… Well, his grades had somehow crept up, he'd made the wrestling team, the girl he was crushing on had kissed him…

One of the reasons he rarely looked at this memory was that it made him feel guilty even now how much he'd wanted to stay. He hated himself for it but when the Impala had shown up he'd felt like screaming at it to go away. His father, his little brother, his family – for just a moment he'd wanted to tell them to leave him the hell alone and not ruin everything for once. He'd gone with them, of course. There'd never been a choice, not really. But despite multiple attempts, he'd never quite managed to forget the fact that for a tiny slice of time he'd been… almost a normal kid, almost a good student, almost successful at something. At a time when he had not yet proven himself as a hunter, that had meant a lot.

Where would he be now if he had stayed? Would he have considered college? Maybe on some sort of sports scholarship, who knows. If he was honest, his father's whole scheme seemed like some sort of trap. A test, maybe, to see if he would stay loyal.

Sam took his place when he came out of the bathroom which meant that he was left alone with his father. John seemed engrossed in a paper and didn't acknowledge him at all. Dean sighed softly and started getting dressed, wondering if this was what it was going to be like once Sam was gone – getting the cold shoulder half the time and being completely ignored the other half.

"You're not ready to fly solo," his father said suddenly, just as Dean was pulling socks on.

Dean blinked. "Solo?"

"I need to split off for a while. Soon. I was going to leave you two to watch each other's backs but that was before Sam's middle-youth crisis. With him gone to Stanford you'll be left on your own. You'll get yourself killed."

Dean groaned. "Dad, seriously, I made a stupid mistake today, I know, okay? Go ahead, tell me how I could have gotten us all killed. It won't happen again!"

"It will happen again. You're too young to hunt without backup. Stubbornness and cockiness won't make up for experience."

"Is this another attempt to convince me to go to Stanford? Because I won't get any hunting experience in a friggin' classroom."

"I didn't say you would. But I'm benching you until further notice."

"Because I dropped a lighter?"

"Because I won't be able to watch out for you!"

"When have you ever…" It slipped out before he could stop it. Dean bit his tongue and nearly clamped a hand over his mouth. His father had gone absolutely still. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean…"

Silence. Dean had started wishing he could just shoot himself when his father leaned forward and fixed him with a look which would have curdled milk. His voice was completely even when he spoke. "You will go to Stanford because I say so, Dean. Or am I suddenly not trustworthy enough to know what I am doing, on top of not watching out for my son?"

"No, I… No, sir."

"Good. Then trust me when I tell you you must go with your brother."

There was something in his father's tone this time which made Dean's instincts prickle. This whole Stanford thing… There was no reason for it unless… Worry won over his fear of messing up a third time today. He met John's eyes. "Dad… Is there something… Do you have a reason to be worried about Sam?"

There was no reply for a few moments and Dean's skin started forming goose bumps.

"Do as you're told," John said finally, firm but not severe, "and take care of your brother."

Dean swallowed. This was an order he could only respond to in one way.

"Yes, sir."


End file.
